I tensed and glanced around. Was it too late to back out the way I came? I licked my matte mocha lips. “Yes, I was invited.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay.”
I must’ve really fucked things up for her to dismiss me and walk away. I jogged after her, my coat flapping at my sides. “Wait.”
She turned and sipped her wine, eyebrows raised.
Maybe I did need to explain myself. “I’m sorry I left like I did. I know Black Friday and the holiday season are busy for the store.”
“Yes,” she said, gripping her wine glass.
“It was a mental health thing.” A hot, invisibly vice squeezed around my neck, but I breathed through it. “I’m getting help. I never should’ve brushed off you or that customer, and I’m sorry. In fact, I have tips you can send her to help remove the shine of glasses in group photos. Her husband, er, partner wore them. And if you do need help, I can work via contract hours until you’re able to find a replacement. But if you don’t want to, or don’t trust me to stay, I get it.”
She raised her chin. “I’ll think about it."
We stood there for a few awkward seconds, not quite making eye contact amid the random peaks of conversation.
Finally, she relaxed her posture. “I hope you feel better.”
“Thanks.” I smiled. Maybe one day, we could be real-life friends now that we didn’t work together. “Oh, um, Sal said I left something at True Tech?” Besides my common sense.
She shook her head. “I don’t know why he’d have it, if you did.”
“Neither do I,” I said.
Where was the stupid china cabinet and what the heck was in it?
I pushed up my glasses and walked into the crowd, where a rotund woman in a floral print dress and apron handed the stocky bouncer from the bar a tray full of food.
“See, this boy knows how to eat," she said to some nearby guests. "My favorite of Sal’s friends ever since elementary. He shovels my driveway. He loves me."
“I do, but I’ve got to get going to my own family gathering. Thanks for feeding me, Mrs. Barbieri," he said.
“Any time, sweetheart.” She blew him a kiss.
Sweetie? Sweetheart? Were Sal’s family fans of pet names no matter what the age or relation?
Part of me wanted to make a good impression and stuff my face for her, but I wasn’t Sal’s girlfriend, and I couldn’t eat and run in good conscience. She’d never know me as more than one of the crowd of his admirers.
I slipped into the dining room, ignoring the curious rumble of my stomach. Against the far wall, I spotted it: the china cabinet. And next to it, the man I’d left my heart with.
Sal smiled thinly and scratched his goatee, nodding at whatever the person he was talking to was saying. His hair was a little wild, like maybe people had been messing with it all day. He didn’t look like his happy-go-lucky self. The light in him was dim. Quiet, actually.
Should I ask him about the cabinet or wait ‘til he was finished with the conversation? I certainly didn’t want his mom's first and only impression of me to be some girl in glasses raiding her china cabinet without permission.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my sleeves and wove my way closer. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize me. Maybe he’d be happy. Maybe…
“Janice,” Mrs. Barbieri cheered.
Sal’s gaze shot to the kitchen.
Shit.He was still hung up on her.
I turned so he wouldn’t notice my staring and pretended to survey the food options. There were three kinds of sweet potatos. Interesting.
His mom and ex moved closer, through an open living room, as she ushered her toward some paper plates. “I’m so happy you came. Even though you and Sal didn’t work out, you can still be part of the family,” she insisted.
“Thanks, Marie. You're all very sweet.” Janice feigned a smile, her hair and nails absolutely giant and fabulous.
